


I still hear the echoes

by CheeszeAlien



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cheating, Durmstrang Student Harry Potter, Emotional Hurt, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Era, I Tried, Jealous Tom Riddle, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Hogwarts, Sad, Sane Tom Riddle, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22115791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheeszeAlien/pseuds/CheeszeAlien
Summary: Tom unearths something that makes him want to tie loose ends.x"Insufferable he says. Well I'm not the one who thought I was cheating just for spending an hour or two a week with a girl," he snaps. "I told you I was gay!""She's part Veela! How was I supposed to compete with that!""You never had to!"
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 14
Kudos: 373





	I still hear the echoes

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from a line of Post Malone's Circles

"Harry." 

Harry turns around, lips morphing into a polite smile that (did not quite reach his eyes) he was never the receiving end of before. And Tom might have just heard a crack from whatever heart he has left. That was strike one. 

"Riddle," he nods. Strike two (Tom thinks his surname never sounded this flat, boring and uninteresting before now).

For a while, neither says anything. Harry resolutely stares at a spot between Tom's eyes, face giving nothing away. 

Tom lets himself wonder how five years could change so much, and change nothing at all. Harry's tanned skin was still the same, if not a shade darker from his apparent travels. His hair is as messy as it had been the day they officially met (not counting Tom's, quite frankly, lingering looks in the Great Hall) in the Hogwarts Library, but longer with half of it tied to the back. The only thing new would be the black and gold with green accents earrings adorning both of his ears, and the Potter Lordship ring on his left hand. 

Tom barely stops himself from swallowing at the sight of Harry. Trying hard not to clench his fists, and take a step forward, if only to close the seemingly ocean wide gap (it's actually table but ok) between them. 

"Did you need something?" 

* * *

"... What, did you say?" Tom asks. 

The former Beauxbatons student that had allured so many of Hogwarts' male students years ago hesitates before stuttering out, "H-He asked m-me to teach him h-how to smith. He s-said it was a courting gift to y-you." The part Veela looks at the ground after that, all too aware of the magic siphoning off of the pale man who, years ago she merely thought of as a boy. 

"And this... Gift? Where is it now?"

"I-I thought he already gave it to you. After m-meeting with him after the final task, he took off. I-I assumed that he would be heading to y-you," the woman smiles at the memory of it. Harry declaring it was done and with a bright grin, spinned on the spot and rushed towards the direction of the Slytherin prefect's dorms.

She senses the scrutinizing look he gave her. Too afraid to look at him, she forces her gaze out of the window. To think that visiting Britain after all these years and an invite to the Malfoy Manor was how she would meet the boy—man— again, she almost thinks it funny.

Well, maybe she'd laugh after getting drunk with Bill later on but not now.

A tap on the dark wooden table captures her attention and all too soon those tree bark brown eyes meets her eyes. The man slightly narrows his eyes. "You're telling the truth," he whispers slowly, disbelief easily etched in those eyes.

Before she can fathom what in Morgana's name he meant by that— of course, she's telling the truth! — the man snaps his fingers and a house elf appears.

"Call your master," to which the elf disappears with a deep bow and soft pop. 

Seconds later Draco Malfoy walks into the green and silver furnished room, offering a bow to her. He turns to Riddle and gives a deep bow, "My Lord."

"Draco," the man had stared outside for a time now, a dark and thoughtful look settled in his features. "Find Harry."

Draco bristles, "H-Harry, my Lord? But he—"

"I said find him!" The Dark Lord roars.

* * *

"Get back together with me," Tom says. Instead of the strings of _miss-you,_ _where-have-you-been_ , _you-told-me-you-weren't-going-to-leave_ , and the _i-never-stopped-looking-for-you_ aching to get out of his throat. 

Harry looks at him. For Tom, he'd always seen Harry as something ethereal, warm and welcoming. A wild fire that would embrace everything in its sight, untamaeble. Harry embraced everything about Tom, and Tom returned the sentiment (if not taking him a while). When Harry, a Durmstrang student met Tom, the Slytherin Sixth year Prefect for the first time, it was never like this. Gaze cutting, suspiciously blank with no whatsoever expression on his face. 

He shrugs, leaning back against the only armchair in his office, "No, thank you."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"You're being insufferable," he snarls. Well, he never did say he'd managed to get his emotions in control even after all those years without Harry.

Harry lets out a loud grating laugh. The kind that purebloods use when mocking someone. Finally it tones down to a few snorts. "Insufferable he says. Well I'm not the one who thought I was cheating just for spending an hour or two a week with a girl," he snaps. "I told you I was gay!"

"She's part Veela! How was I supposed to compete with that!"

"You never had to!"

* * *

"Hey Draco, have you seen Tom?" 

Draco slowly steps out of Portrait Hole and into the hallway. Harry, the Triwizard Champion, still bandaged after the Third Trial stood, just outside the Slytherin Dungeon with his signature grin etched into his face. His hands were behind his back. Likely hiding something. Ever the Gryffindor from Durmstrang, he scoffs. 

"He doesn't want to see you," lifting his chin up haughtily. 

Harry snorts, "Yeah, okay." Then proceeds to push Draco aside and head inside the Dorm. 

Draco doesn't stop him and just follows the Champion inside, through the Common Room, up the stairs, and into the sixth year dormitory. 

Harry pays no attention to the other students congratulating him and continues his way. Abruptly opening Riddle's room without knocking. 

"Tom! I—" 

Draco catches up in time to see Harry's wide eyes and frozen stiff posture. The grunts and creaking of the bed hadn't stopped. Likely not noticing the door opening. Or his Lord simply didn't care. Draco should smirk. Laugh. Or be joyous at seeing Harry bloody Potter like this, distraught. But he watches the Potter heir, and for once, he can't say anything biting to the other's face. He only hesitates for a second before whispering out. 

"You should go." 

Without another word, Harry turns around and apparates out. 

* * *

Tom refuses to cry. _Refuses_. Five years wasted because of some silly misunderstanding and here he was and he still can't reach to Harry. 

"Harry, I'm sorry." 

With that, Harry looks up to Tom's eyes from observing the fireplace. A slight widening of eyes, as if he couldn't believe what he had heard. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"That's what I said." 

He laughs just like the way he used to. 

If not a bit pained. 

* * *

"Riddle?" 

Riddle tears his gaze away from the pair of one Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour as they walk into the Great Hall conversing and bidding goodbyes as they head to their preferred seats. Pansy observes Riddle's fists unclench and is amused to see the silverware ruined in the face of the Slytherin King's jealousy. 

"Pardon me. You were saying?" 

At this Pansy makes an oh so small observation, regardless of its uselessness. She needs to remind the King after all. 

"You know, Potter could probably get his Masters in Defense in a year after school. What with the rumored OOs he gets every year in exams. Charming, really." 

Tom rolls his eyes and seethes out, "Your point?" 

She waves a hand to Fleur, "I'm saying that Merlin's the only one who knows what Potter would do if something were to happen to his friends. You ought to be careful." 

She sees Riddle glance at the part-Veela. Sees the way his gears turn until reaching a decision out of a corner of her eye. 

Rounds of laughter make its way throughout the Hall. Potter runs away outside from an angry but also laughing Ronald Weasley shouting a, "Come back here!" While wearing a blinding pink cocktail dress and pink fairy wings with a matching tiara and sparkles surrounding himself. 

He begins to stand amidst the distraction and manages to bite out without having to shout, "Thank you for the advice, but I'm afraid I won't need it."

He heads outside the Hall. 

* * *

"You couldn't control me so you hurt me." 

"I... did." 

"You destroyed my trust." 

"I did." 

"You made a fool of me." 

"I did." 

"You cornered me just so you can order me to get together with you." 

"..." 

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" 

* * *

Hand in hand, Harry and Tom walks into the Great Hall just behind Delacour and Davies. Minerva has been smiling too much she's afraid her poor old jaw would already be locking. She hasn't been this happy for a couple since Lily and James got together after graduation. The usual polite Prefect is positively beaming (despite it only being a smile slightly bigger than his usual ones) beneath the gentle blue-white hue the Yule decorations give off. 

The Durmstrang Champion is still grinning from ear to ear, Minerva hurting for the lad. Except his eyes, so much greener than his Mother's, is only locked on the boy beside him. 

"Simply wonderful, aren't they?" 

The Potions Professor merely hums. "Quite." 

"Oh, do get out of your dark cave Severus. It's the Yule Ball! Have some fun for once." 

She turns her attention back to the Champions and their dates. She observes Tom lavishing the attention Harry gives to him. Harry must have said something because now Tom has a faint dusting of pink across his cheeks. But manages to smirk at Harry and say something in return. 

"Oh, beautiful." Clasping her hands together and erupting into a full-blown smile. 

* * *

Tom looks at the table in front of him. He had expected Harry to try and run away. He never actually thought what to say when they meet again. Before Delacour, he actually thought of _taunting_ the bo— man. But now... 

"Tom." 

He looks up. Harry looks at him this time, really looks at him. Tom doesn't know what he sees. Harry knows he doesn't like to show his vulnerable state but the knowledge doesn't stop his shoulders from rising up, back hunching, and eyes downcast. He gives a small smile and stands up, making his way to Tom. He look Tom straight to the eyes and takes his chin in his hand. 

"Stop pouting. You know I can't take it when you look like that," he whispers. Tom says nothing, still internalizing the fact that Harry's in front of him and so near him again after all these years. 

"I'm still hurt." 

"I know." Tom closes his eyes at the close proximity and feeling of Harry's hand cradling his chin. 

"It might happen again."

At this, Tom flinches. "I..." 

* * *

"Oh thank Merlin!" 

Poppy sees Harry with Tom and Fleur's sister break out to the surface with everyone cheering. She rushes to the three along with other students from the three schools. Pushing through the crowd to reach the Champion just in time for her to hand them a blanket and a cup of chocolate, casting a spell to check for injuries. 

"Alright alright! Give them some space please!" Shooing away the cheering students. 

"You saved her!" Exclaimed one Fleur Delacour rushing toward Harry and her sister. "You saved her even if she wasn't yours to save! Merci, merci!" 

Kissing him on both cheeks, the audience cheers with a couple of boos here and there. Poppy gasps in surprise as Tom Riddle grasps the Champion's neck and proceeds to snog him breathless. 

"Oh my." 

And the audience erupts into a much _much_ louder cheer. 

* * *

"It won't happen again," Tom tries to reason while staring at anywhere but Harry. "So... Give me a chance." 

"Please," he looks up to Harry. 

Harry smirks, letting go of Tom's chin. He scowls. Seeing him smirk teasingly again brings back the flutterings in Tom's stomach he thought he already grew out of. Why did he have to fall for this idiot? 

_Because you decided he was yours._

"This was my gift to you, you know," Harry whispers, suddenly holding out a bracelet on his palm. Tom lets out a small gasp in his mind. 

It was a silver snake, with the snake's tail in its mouth, and has emerald for its eyes. "Would you like to have it now?" Harry's eyes twinkle in mirth and Tom becomes wary. They always became like that whenever he thought of a prank. Despite this, he nods. 

"You'll have to catch me first." 

Tom scowls as Harry steps back grinning. He salutes while winking and apparates away, bringing down the wards Tom had set up earlier to capture the man. With a deep breath, he casts a spell to follow what was his. What _will_ become his. Once again. 

At the very least he might be closer to what he wants. 

* * *

"Hello."

Tom gives an imperceptible sigh through his nose. Preparing a polite smile and a small excuse to make whoever it was to leave him alone. It was bad enough that he couldn't compete in the Triwizard Tournament because of his age and Cedric Diggory got all the glory. Dumbledore had to rub it in his face earlier in Transfigurations, although subtly. So he did what he always did. Read a book from the Restricted Section.

He slowly closed the book as to not appear caught. Although covering the book with a fake cover of _Herbs Discovered in the 21st Century and Its Uses_ might have not been a giveaway, really.

"Yes?" And then he looks up.

The boy in front of him was a Durmstrang student, although Tom never really tried to talk nor hold a conversation with the students from the other schools here for the tournament, he knew enough based on what he saw in the Great Hall when the Goblet of Fire was choosing the competitors.

This was _the_ Durmstrang Champion.

Hogwarts had its fair share of attractive boys. Tom considers himself one of them, actually. But he supposes that the boy's looks were also charming. His face was perfect, except for a scar that ran accross right side of his forehead, seperating his eyebrow and reaching just above his eye.

Though Tom would never say out loud that he thinks it only served to add to the Durmstrang student's charm.

"Harry Potter," the boy says with a grin, holding out his right hand. 

"I'm aware. Tom Riddle," he says with a polite smile, because when did anyone saw the Slytherin Prefect without a smile on his face? Reaching for the offered hand and shaking it slightly. Harry's hand had a few more calluses compared to Tom's own. And if he might have just let go a few seconds longer than what was appropriate but who's counting?

Harry gave a grin and motions the seat beside him. "Would you mind? I've noticed no one bothers to sit here."

Of course no one would, Tom scoffs in his mind. The place was at the very back of the library and most students knew not to bother the top student. But he didn't say anything of the sort. And instead motions to the seat smiling. 

"Of course."

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I needed some angst.


End file.
